Where No Gerbil Has Gone Before
by jespah
Summary: Whatever happened to … Stella? On April 25, 2160, Chip Masterson reveals all.
1. Chapter 1

1

"Chip, what is this?" asked Deborah Haddon. She stopped what she had been doing, which was rummaging around the third drawer from the top of Chip Masterson's Starfleet issued bureau, hunting for a place to put her change of clothes. She took an article out.

"Huh?" he asked. This was her first time staying over in his quarters overnight. His roommate, Aidan MacKenzie, was in Sick Bay for overnight observation, with an injury that even Dr. Phlox had said was likely not too serious. Chip and Deb both had the night off for the first time in months. It was the perfect time, and now he and Deb were finally alone. "Can't it wait?"

"You never told me you had a stuffed rat," she chuckled, showing him the article.

"Oh my God, you found Stella!"

"Stella? You _name_ your toys, Chip?"

"Uh, no, um, Deb, nobody can know that I've got Stella. You gotta swear to me that you won't say anything, not even to Meredith."

"Why the hell would I wanna tell my roommate?" She came closer. "'Sides, I think it's cute. Is it _that _embarrassing?"

Behind her, a wall chronometer showed the date – _April the twenty-fifth of 2160_ – and the time – _2116 hours_. "Uh, well," Chip stammered, "it's, uh, it's not embarrassment. See, I'm not supposed to have Stella."

"Is the stuffed rat stolen, or something?"

"She's a _gerbil_." He took Stella from Deb. "And, uh, she's _borrowed_ – _indefinitely_."

"Chandler Masterson," Deb had her hands on her hips and looked every inch the Security Crewman that she was, "do you mean to inform me that you've committed petty larceny?" She lost her poker face, and started laughing at him.

"C'mon, I, uh, _nobody_ can know I've got her. Seriously, I'm begging you, Deb."

"Bur Aidan knows, right?"

"Aidan is one of the _last_ people who should be told," Chip insisted. He made his best puppy eyes at her. "_Please_?"

Deb peered at Chip more closely. "You're really serious about this."

"I am. _Please_, do not say a word. The captain'll have my hide."

"What's this all about? And I mean _really_."

"I, uh," he sighed, in part because he'd have to come clean with her, and in part because his plans for a romantic evening had been shot to hell.

"Chip," she sat down on his bed, "confession is good for the soul."

"Yeah, I suppose so."

"Besides," Deb reasoned, "if you tell me your deep, dark secret it'll, you know, it'll bring us closer." They kissed.

"I, er, I was kinda hoping we could get closer another way, Deb."

"Who says we can't do both? Now, spill."

"Okay," he sighed, and sat down next to her. "Here goes nothin'." He handed Stella back to her and began.

=/\=

There was a broadcast on the viewer with a caption giving the date – _January fourteenth of 2149._

Vulcan Ambassador Soval spoke, "I am honored to announce a scientific and engineering competition to design a better system of inertial dampers for our starship program." Several people were shown on the screen as the camera panned back. "With me is the Starfleet team, led by Commander Jonathan Archer. With him are Charles Tucker III, Elizabeth Cutler, Judy Kelly, Aidan MacKenzie, Meredith Porter and Michael Rostov. I am also joined by Commander Aaron Gregory Robinson, who will be selecting the competing team. Commander Robinson?"

"Yes," Robinson had a marked accent, betraying Oklahoma roots. "I will be looking at not only engineers but also scientists and even people from other disciplines. This problem's been botherin' us for a while. But this'll be a six on six competition. There's a link on the screen where you can indicate your interest. Thanks."

=/\=

Deb interrupted, "Wait, hasn't Aidan always been in Tactical?"

"He has," Chip confirmed, "but the idea was to bring in people with all sorts of backgrounds. What they'd been doing wasn't working, so they wanted fresher perspectives."

"And that's you, too. Weren't you Tactical then, too?"

"Not yet," Chip said, "I took a while to find myself. Keep in mind, I was twenty years old then, and still at Brown, majoring in English. But I threw my hat in the ring anyway."

=/\=

It was almost February, and Chip found himself in the same room where the Ambassador's broadcast had originated. Commander Robinson stood in front of him and five other people. "I picked you all because I thought you'd be a good mix – three Engineering students, two engineers and one English major. Now, I know your names but you should introduce yourselves all the same. Ladies first."

"All right," the only woman in the room was a striking redhead. "My name is Jennifer Crossman. You can call me Jenny. I'm a sophomore at Worcester Polytechnic in Massachusetts."

Next to her, there was a really tall guy who was starting to lose his hair a bit. He said, "I'm José Torres. I'm an electrical engineer for the European Railway." He had a Portuguese accent.

Next was a shorter guy with darting eyes and a bit of a nervous way about him. "I'm Derek Kelby. I am a mechanical engineer for a firm in Oslo."

"Brooks Haynem," said the next guy, who was well-built. "I'm at Worcester with Jenny. WPI is the, uh, home of Gompei the Goat."

"The what?" asked José.

"There's a statue on the main campus," Jenny explained. "It's, uh, a bit of a weird crimson and grey tradition, all of that. You?" She faced Chip.

"I'm Chip Masterson; I'm the English major. I go to Brown."

"And last but not least ..?" asked Robinson, facing another short guy.

"I'm Josh Rosen. I'm in Starfleet Academy's Engineering program. I'm probably gonna go into ship design."

=/\=

Deb asked, "So Jenny was, what, eighteen?"

"Nineteen, I think. Josh was even younger. Kelby was already a stick in the mud, and Haynem hadn't figured out yet that he wanted to go into Security."

"Did Torres have _any_ hair?"

Chip laughed at that. "A bit, but I think it was clinging for dear life."

=/\=

"Now," Robinson stated. "You all know why you're here. The other team is kinda similar, in that it's five engineers and one, uh, extra. That's a guy named MacKenzie, who's on our Tactical squad."

"Do they have specifications or any other advantages, sir?" asked Torres.

"It'll all be shared with you. And everybody can call me AG, all right? Listen," AG added, "if we win this thing, I bet you'll all be brought on by Starfleet, not just you, Rosen."

"Huh," Chip said, "I never thought about going into deep space. But what the hell, eh?" He clapped Kelby hard on the back and the other man looked daggers at him.

=/\=

"You all know your mission," Jonathan Archer said to the group of five in front of him. "I know we can win this."

"I heard one of theirs is an English major," Aidan snorted. He was classically tall, dark and handsome. Porter. Kelly and Cutler all looked at him as he spoke, hanging on his every word.

"Now, let's not get cocky," Tucker cautioned. "We'll mix with 'em at the _602 Club _or somethin', and feel 'em out. But I don't think we got anything to worry 'bout."

"I don't need to remind you," added Archer, "that the pride of Starfleet is hanging on this. But no pressure!" He smiled. "The _602 Club_ sounds good. I'll tell AG to bring his team and meet us there tonight."

=/\=

The _602 Club_ was a lively place in Mill Valley that sold beer and shots and little else. Ruby Brannagh tended bar and greeted Archer and Tucker when they walked in with their team. "What'll it be?" she asked, leaning over and looking Archer in the eye.

"Something that won't give me a hangover," he yelled over the din of the place.

She poured from a tap and Michael Rostov came over to give her his order. Tucker leaned against the bar and motioned to Cutler. She leaned in, in order to hear him. "Now, Darlin', I think you should meet Stella."

"Stella? Is that your sister, or something?" asked the Science Crewman.

"No, my sister's name is Elizabeth, just like you. But Stella is, well, let's just say we have a special bond. I sleep with her ever' night."

Liz Cutler gave him a look. "Are you suggesting what I think you are?" She made a face and turned to the bar to order a lager.

"Whaddaya think I'm suggestin', Darlin'?"

"I shudder to think!" she yelled in the loud, crowded bar.

"Stella's not human!" Tucker yelled back.

"What the hell–?"

Tucker whipped out his PADD and thumbed through a series of photographs. "Uh, there. That's Stella." He showed her a picture of the stuffed gerbil.

"Aha! So you wanna share a bed with both of us?" Liz asked.

"Uh, um, yeah, that's what I had in mind."

She didn't get a chance to respond as Robinson arrived with his team.

.=/\=

"Wait, Chip, how do you know that part? You weren't there."

"I wasn't; that much is true. But Aidan was. Anyway, we got there."

"No, back up a sec. So it was Tucker and Cutler?"

"I don't think anything ever actually happened. I think it was a lotta posturing," Chip explained.

=/\=

There were whistles as Jenny walked in. Aidan immediately went over. "A goddess who can fix things, eh?"

She looked past him and went over to introduce herself to Judy, Meredith and Liz. "Thank God I'm not the only girl. Are you all getting hit on?"

"Just you," Meredith said. She was maybe ten years older than the others. "Anyway, I'd rather get out of here and get to work. This just feels like a lotta standing around."

"I think decorum requires that we stand around for at least an hour before we can vamoose," Liz opined.

They all had drinks. Jonathan said, "A toast! To the _Warp Five Project_! May we get some great inertial dampers out of this competition!"

"Uh, okay," Chip murmured, downing his beer and wondering why he was there.

=/\=

It was the next morning, and the teams had settled into separate work areas on different floors of the same building. "I think Ruby was, uh, incorrect when she said no hangover," Jonathan complained, holding his throbbing head in his hands.

"There ain't no truth in advertising," Tripp commiserated, looking over at Liz, who was avoiding him.

"We should get to work," Meredith suggested.

"Right," agreed Michael.

"Okay," Tucker said, "let's talk about the current state of affairs when it comes to inertial dampers."

=/\=

The Robinson team also met. "Let's get started," AG declared.

"What are they using now?" José inquired.

"My understanding," AG explained, "is that we're using, well, it hasn't changed much in a while. It's a rough ride at the best o' times."

"It looks like the system's mechanical," Derek opined.

"_Really_?" Chip inquired. "I mean, you'd think they'd have something really, I dunno, _futuristic_."

"Doesn't look that way," José explained, "instead it appears not to have changed much since, well, since Apollo days."

"Just what do inertial dampers do, anyway?" Chip asked Jenny.

"You volunteered for this, and you don't know?" she laughed.

"The long and the short of it is," AG explained, "they keep you from gettin' whacked against the nearest wall when a ship jumps to warp."

"Why don't people just wear seatbelts?" Chip asked.

Derek shook his head in some annoyance. Josh explained, "People are gonna live and work on the ship. They won't always be sitting down. You can't always warn everybody to grab a hold of something, or buckle up when you hit the gas."

"Yeah, I guess not," allowed Chip.

"But yanno," Jenny murmured, thinking out loud, "the idea that they should use something more futuristic, yeah, that's a good idea."

"Like what?" asked AG.

They all thought for a moment. "If the potential energy could be harnessed, maybe we could, uh," José mused, but then his voice trailed off.

"We could use it to power the dampers. Or maybe even use it as the dampers themselves," Derek added. "I mean, it's a restoration of force, right?"

"What?" inquired AG.

"See," Jenny explained, "there's energy loss all the time. I know Henry Archer's engine is as efficient as it can possibly be, but there's pretty much always room for improvement. So there are leaks, in a way."

=/\=

On Jonathan Archer's team, Meredith said, "The current system is lousy. It's a form of mobile padding – we use a colloidal substance."

"What's a colloidal substance?" Aidan inquired.

"It's kind of a mushy solid," Liz explained, "sorta like Jell-O."

"So it's edible?" Aidan asked.

"Not exactly," Tripp said, "although that would save on galley space, eh? Still, that'd be a lousy idea – eating the padding. You'd get full and then your ride would get really bumpy, and you'd lose it all."

"That's, uh, kind of what happened when the _NX-Delta_ broke the Warp Three barrier," intimated Jonathan, "it's one of the many glamors of piloting a prototype starship that we don't tell anybody about. So, does anyone have any ideas for improvements? I don't care how strange they might sound. Let's just brainstorm. Maybe some of this _Jell-O_," he smiled, "will stick to the wall."

"A force field of some sort," Michael suggested.

"Maybe a harnessing of the inertia itself," Tripp offered.

"We could maybe make it a part of the warp containment field," Liz mused.

"Or maybe even build it into the system for polarizing the hull plating," Judy said.

=/\=

They had been going at it for hours, and it was late and everyone was tired. Chip had done his best to pay attention and keep up with things, but he could tell his questions were just slowing everyone else down. He approached AG, "Uh, why am I here?"

AG smiled at him. "There's gonna be a presentation at the end of all of this. You're gonna do that."

"So I need to understand the system, but they're gonna answer the questions, right?"

"Possibly. You might be on your own for the presentation, so you'll still need to pay attention."

"Got it. But right now, I mean, what am I supposed to do?"

"Do like me – 'cause God knows I'm no engineer, either – lead the cheerin' section."

_Great_, thought Chip as they finally finished up for the evening.

=/\=

The two teams sat across from each other at a long table in the Starfleet Headquarters Mess Hall. Chip found himself seated across from Aidan. "So, what kinda tinkering do you do?" he asked the guy who all of the women – except for Jenny – seemed to be openly ogling.

"Wha –? Oh, I'm the odd man out, just like you. I'm slated for Tactical work."

"Ah, got it. I suppose I'll open with a joke about Chaucer when I do the presentation."

"Chaucer?"

"Huh. Maybe a Carl Sagan joke for this crowd," Chip muttered.

"You catch the Ganymede Hunters game?" Michael asked Tripp.

"Yeah!" Tripp enthused. "Trent McCoy had a no-hitter goin' into the fifth."

The women on their team looked uninterested. "You gals got plans for later?" Chip inquired.

"We've got work to do," Meredith said, "and don't you?"

"You forget, he's the presentation guy," Liz reminded her.

"I bet you're bored," Judy opined.

"Nothing a little time with a honey won't cure," Chip smiled at her.

That got Michael's attention. "We've got work to do."

"Oh, uh, sorry," Chip glanced at them, trying to figure out if they were an item, or if it was just wishful thinking on Rostov's part.

"You shouldn't be thinking about that," Jenny scolded, "we've got our own stuff to do, yanno."

"Yeah," Chip allowed, "inertial dampers, the most gobsmackingly exciting thing, ever."

=/\=

"You hit on Judy Kelly?" Deb asked.

"I, uh, not exactly," he backpedaled a little, trying to salvage at least a little bit of the hoped-for romantic evening, "I was clearly underutilized. I figured it might be a good idea to, you know; take one of their engineers outta the project for a while."

"You were hitting on her!" Deb laughed. "Did you ever go out with her?" she turned suddenly serious.

"No, Babe. You're the only honey I've been with here on the _NX-01_."

"You're calling me a _honey_ now? Chip, uh, you do realize I can overpower you in, like, seventeen different ways or so."

"Tell me more." He kissed her.

"You haven't gotten to the part about Stella yet."

"_Damn._"

=/\=

A few days elapsed. The solution seemed close for both teams, but it remained elusive. Chip and Aidan had both taken to getting up during many of the team sessions, and wandering around the area. They ran into each other on more than one occasion. They didn't ask each other how things were going, but Chip figured that, if he was seeing Aidan around the halls of Starfleet Headquarters, it meant that the other team had not yet formulated a workable solution.

=/\=

That Friday, the teams met again at dinner. Tripp said, "I'm gonna have a little get-together in my quarters tonight, at 2030 hours. Come on along if you want to see my place here at HQ."

"What about Robinson and Archer?" asked Josh.

"No squares," Tripp stated.

"Got it," said Brooks.

=/\=

The five of them walked over to Tucker's quarters together. Jenny was in a short skirt, high heels and a fire engine red off the shoulder top. José looked at her and said, "You are making it appear as if we can all attract someone like you."

"Huh? Oh, um, thanks." She truly didn't seem to think she looked too extraordinary.

Chip and Josh walked together, behind where she was walking with Brooks and José. "You think she's going out with Haynem?" Chip asked. "I mean, they _are_ at WPI together."

"There's gotta be a few thousand other fellas there, too," Josh said, "You think Liz would, uh …?"

"I dunno, Sport. Eh, maybe we shouldn't split our focus. But I gotta figure that's one reason Robinson picked the Redheaded Bombshell there," Chip said, "Our secret weapon, eh?"

"She's smart," Josh stated.

"Well, yeah, that's for sure. But, man oh man, just," he sighed as he watched her walking in front of them, "she's outta everyone's league. Except, I guess, for MacKenzie."

"I heard she shot him down."

"Oh, really?"

=/\=

The party was a lively kegger, ear-splittingly loud music blasting through the stereo system in a small living room. Tucker was decked out in a Hawaiian shirt and had already had a couple – that was obvious when he opened the door. "Hey! How's much favorite engineer? And, uh, her four sidekicks?" He leaned over and kissed Jenny on the cheek. "Darlin', you're lookin' rather fine."

"Oh, um, thanks."

Judy and Liz were standing over by the keg, watching Michael tapping it. "Here," he gave Judy a cup of the beer. Jenny came over and he just stared.

"Um, could I have some?" the redhead asked.

"Uh, uh, sure." Tongue-tied, he fumbled for a cup from the stack and knocked the stack over as Judy glared at him.

Chip wandered around and found Aidan. "This ratio is lousy. Don't you guys know any other women?" he yelled over the din.

"Hey, nobody told Robinson to stack the deck five to one. Crossman's smokin', though. That makes up for a lotta sins."

"I think you got sin on your mind, man," Chip said.

"I'm sure everybody else does, too. Except for Porter. I don't even know why she came here. She looks like a wet blanket if I ever saw one."

"We should pair her up with Kelby," Chip suggested. "They can bond over disapproving of everything."

"I'll go over and suggest it," Aidan grinned and walked over toward Meredith.

Chip wandered around a little, looking at some of Tucker's possessions. He had framed family photographs on his desk and there was a small figurine of Frankenstein, prominent among a ton of other horror memorabilia. There were some paper books, including _Gulliver's Travels_. There was an old-fashioned shined diving helmet. And there, on Tripp Tucker's bed, there was a stuffed animal.

He picked up the toy.

=/\=

"Ah, so you met Stella," Deb said.

"Yep."

=/\=

Tucker came over. "That's, that's Stella. She's, she's been ever'where." Tripp's Florida Panhandle accent was pronounced in his inebriation.

"Everywhere?" asked Chip.

"Yeah. She's gone on all of the real big flights. Archer took her when he broke Warp Two. And she was on the _NX-Delta_ when it broke Warp Three. She'll be on the first Warp Five ship, if I got anythin' to say 'bout it."

"Got it. So this rat has been to Neptune and back?"

"She is not, she is, she is not a rat," Tucker slurred a little, "she is a _gerbil._ Please, the little darlin' is kinda sensitive 'bout that."

"So she's been where no gerbil's gone before?" Chip quipped.

"Let's not get vulgar, man," Tripp leaned on Chip heavily, his breath reeking of beer, "the honeys get scared when you talk 'bout gerbils and, and space exploration, yanno."

"I'll keep that in mind."

=/\=

The following morning, it seemed like everyone had a hangover except for Meredith and Derek, who were … somewhere.

Chip wasn't immune to the effects of the booze but he got up anyway, even though it was Saturday and he really didn't have to. As usual, he wandered around Starfleet Headquarters.

There were MACOs on a tour of the facility, under the command of a huge fellow with hair combed straight back who looked like he was maybe in his late forties. Civilians, too, were in the area, as was a clutch of Vulcans. One was a rather good-looking woman – certainly as attractive as Jennifer – once you got past her bowl haircut and seemingly perpetual scowl.

=/\=

"You saw _T'Pol_ there?"

"Yep, and the late Major Hayes, although I didn't realize it at the time," he confirmed.

"Small universe, eh?"

=/\=

Chip found himself going back in the direction of where the party had been held. He hadn't seen Tripp, and wondered if the fellow in the loud Hawaiian shirt was okay.

The door was open when he got there, and the rooms were in disarray. There was a littering of plastic cups, some with traces of beer in them, plus a ton of oily pizza boxes. It was all the detritus of a blowout evening. "Looks like you had even more fun after we all left," Chip murmured.

The rooms were deserted – Tucker wasn't even passed out in one of them. "I guess you _really _had fun, then." He glanced around the little living room and picked up one of the pizza boxes. He about jumped out of his skin when he saw something under it.

Then he noticed the thing was not moving. He picked it up. _Stella_.

=/\=

"So _that's_ how you got Stella."

"Well, there's more."

=/\=

That Monday, Tripp Tucker staggered to the meeting of his team. "Uh, sorry I'm late," he mumbled. Liz shot him a look, as did Jonathan Archer.

"Now I know," said Archer, "that there was a party over the weekend. It doesn't matter to me what any of you do with your private lives, so long as you don't let it affect your work."

"Uh, sorry, I won't let it happen again." He held his own head. Tucker was nursing a rather severe hangover.

"Let's talk about the force field idea," Meredith suggested. "I think we could do something with the inertia itself."

"Yeah, maybe it could be reflected back on itself," Michael agreed.

"How would you do that?" asked Jonathan.

"We might be able to do something with the colloidal suspension," suggested Liz.

"I thought we were scrapping that outright," Judy pointed out.

"I dunno. Maybe we don't have to," replied Meredith.

They went on for hours, back and forth. Finally, Jonathan commented, "Tripp, you've been quiet."

"Uh, sorry, I, uh, sorry." He didn't seem to be in much of a condition to participate, even after downing numerous cups of bad coffee.

"Aidan," Jonathan commanded, "get Tripp here to the infirmary."

"I don't think I need that. Just, just a good night's sleep is all. And I'm still sorry. The weekend just caught up with me."

"Let's not have any repeat performances of this," Archer cautioned.

"Understood." Tripp left with Aidan.

=/\=

They got to Tucker's quarters, and the door was still ajar. "Huh," Tripp commented.

"Did you leave it that way?" Aidan asked, tactical training kicking in.

"Yeah, I probably did. I was kinda out of it when I headed to the _602 Club_ and, uh, Ruby Brannagh's sweet favors."

"Ah, I see. For the whole weekend?"

"_Oh, yeah_," Tripp confirmed. He smiled a little, but winced again as his headache had never really gone away.

They walked in and the place was a godawful mess, just as it had been left, save for the extraction of one small article.

"I, uh, I better get back," Aidan said, "although God knows what I can contribute until it's time for the presentation."

"Tell 'em, uh," Tucker thought for a moment, "tell 'em that the inertia idea – the one where it's reflected back on itself – it's a good one. But we don't need the colloid at all. The hull can absorb most of it, I'm thinkin'. I'll, uh, I'll do the calculations later."

"Thanks. Need any help with anything?"

"Nah," Tripp said, kicking off his shoes. "I fired the housekeeper, yanno," he joked. "But I'll be fine."

Aidan turned to leave as Tripp went to the back, to his sleeping area. He began rummaging around. "Dammit, where is she?"

"Who?" Aidan was uncomprehending.

"She's, she's usually in the bedroom, or, or on top of the stereo."

"Who? What?"

Tripp returned and looked at him. "It was that other team, I am _sure_ of it."

"What? What did they do?"

"They kidnapped her!"

"What?"

Tripp Tucker did not answer Aidan. He just stood in the center of his small living room, amidst the old pizza boxes and the littered cups with their traces of stale beer. He looked at the ceiling and raised his arms above him, pleading, and bellowed one word.

"**STELLA!"**

18


	2. Chapter 2

2

The next day, Tucker waited for Archer to step out of the room before he started talking. "I got a problem with the other team," he began, without preamble, and leapt to his feet.

"What are you talking about?" asked Judy.

"One of 'em's a thief."

"What?" asked Liz.

"He lost, uh, it was a stuffed animal," Aidan explained.

"What's the big deal?" asked Michael. "Just go out and buy a new one."

"You don't un'erstand," Tucker seethed, beginning to pace.

"It's a toy, right? A toy?" Michael asked Judy.

"It's still a theft," she explained.

"I can't sleep without Stella!"

"So what about the rumor I heard that the reason you were so hung over yesterday was because you were spending time with, uh, the waitress from the _602 Club_, well, what was _that _all about?" Meredith inquired sharply.

"News sure travels fast, eh?" Tripp shook his head. "That was private, between me 'n Ruby."

"And all her friends on the grid," Liz snapped. She fished her PADD out of a pocket and clicked around until a social media image came up, of Tripp and Ruby drunkenly smiling at a PADD camera.

"No wonder, oh damn," Tucker said. "But look, I know you're mad at me. But it doesn't change that I had somethin' stolen outta my quarters. And I bet it was one of 'em. I mean, it had to be!"

"Whoever they were," Judy opined, "they weren't that well versed in thievery. I mean, they are the obvious suspects, right? So complain to Archer and he'll tell Forrest and it'll all get worked out."

"Oh, no," Tucker said, "That's what they'll expect. See, they're doin' this in order to throw me offa my game. And tellin' Archer and Forrest won't do no good. They don't want any blemishes on this little exercise. I mean, it's no secret that this is a way to recruit more engineers. And I'm all for that. But I don't wanna be servin' on a starship with 'em if they can't be trusted."

"I bet it wasn't a real theft at all," Meredith stated. They all looked at her, so she added, "You may be right, that it was done not to really take the toy but to just get you rattled a little."

"Exactly!" Tripp exclaimed.

"How do we fix this?" asked Judy.

"We prank 'em back," Michael stated.

The door was opening and Archer was returning, so discussion of just _how_ to do that was tabled for the nonce.

=/\=

At the same time, Robinson left the other team's meeting room and strolled out for some fresh air. While he was out, Chip retrieved a canvas bag he had brought with him. He fished Stella out of it. "Lookie what I got."

They all looked up. "That belongs to Lieutenant Tucker," Derek pointed out.

"True," Chip allowed, "but I have been doing pretty much, well, absolutely nothing around here. Here is my contribution to the cause."

"Some contribution," muttered Jennifer.

""Ever the skeptic, eh? Hear me out. See," Chip explained, "the way I see it, their best engineer is Tucker, hands down. He's a natural. So if we take him out of his game, they'll get stalled. And then we can, you know, move ahead and win this thing."

"You stole a toy?" José's tone was scolding.

"I _borrowed _it," Chip clarified. "Otherwise, I got nothing to do around here, but watch you all discuss whatever the hell it is you've been coming up with. And I'm tired of that. I figured I'd get a little proactive, is all."

"What are you gonna do with it?" Josh asked.

"Hold onto it for now. Maybe we can request a ransom, I dunno. Let's play it by ear, okay?" he returned Stella to the bag.

"This weekend," Jenny said, "they are gonna want to paint the town again. We were invited over to Tucker's. Maybe we should host them somehow."

The door opened, and it was AG Robinson. "You kids okay?"

"We were just talking about returning the favor," Jenny explained, "You know, we were invited to Tripp's place last Friday. I'm thinking our team could do something in return."

"That's a thoughtful idea," Robinson praised, "but no wild parties. You've all gotta buckle down. The Vulcans, I'm sure they already look on this whole endeavor disapprovingly. Do something, I dunno, _responsible._"

"I'm sure they've all toured Starfleet Academy," Josh mused.

"Believe me, nobody wants to see Oslo this time of year, unless they like skiing," Derek chimed in.

"What about inviting them on a tour of WPI?" Jenny suggested. "We could show them Gompei and everything."

"Gompei?" Chip inquired.

"There's a statue in the middle of campus," Brooks explained. "This guy was an international student back in the nineteenth century, I think, and after that, I gotta say, I don't know the rest of the story. Do you, Jenny?"

"Nothing other than that he herded goats," she confessed, "but we can take them to the Boynton afterwards and then send 'em home on the next transport."

"The Boynton is a bar," Brooks clarified.

"Okay, now that the real important stuff is outta the way," AG commanded, "let's go back to the wonderful world of inertial dampers."

=/\=

It was a chilly late February Saturday in Worcester, Massachusetts, but at least the sun was shining and the piles of snow on the ground were fairly small and not too dirty. Jenny and Brooks led the two teams through the campus, showing the fountain at its center and a number of older, moss-covered buildings.

They stopped in front of a statue of a goat. "And this is Gompei," Brooks announced.

"A gift of the class of 2009," Meredith read off the inscription. "So it's one hundred and forty years old, eh?"

"More or less," Jenny said.

Archer and Robinson were bringing up the rear. "Your team make any breakthroughs yet?" Jonathan inquired.

"Not a chance," AG smiled at him, "I'm not tellin' you where we are or anythin'."

"I see."

"Care to make a friendly wager on which team's proposal gets accepted?"

"How friendly?" Archer asked.

"How 'bout a round o' drinks at the _602 Club_ – for both teams," AG proposed.

They shook hands as Jonathan replied, "You're on."

=/\=

Back at Starfleet Headquarters that evening, there was an impromptu meeting in Liz and Judy's guest quarters. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" asked Tripp.

"That goat statue," Michael said. The rest of them nodded in agreement.

"I won't be a party to theft," Meredith stated flatly. She paused and then added, "So you'd better put it back afterwards."

"Got it, sister," Tripp said.

"How are we gonna get in there?" Liz asked.

"Take a regular transport, I'm thinking," Michael said. "Judy and you and me, we could say we're thinking of transferring. Meredith and Tripp here are old enough to look like grad students. I don't think most people will notice us going there."

"Right," Judy said, "but then we've gotta get that statue out. It's made of, what? Lead? Iron? Whatever it is, people are gonna notice if we all grab an end and haul it outta there. I don't think you or Aidan can lift it by yourself, Michael."

"Huh, probably not," he agreed. "'Sides, what the hell would I say if someone stopped me? We gotta get it outta there like, I dunno, we gotta make it disappear."

There was a moment's worth of silence. "There's Emory Erickson's invention," Meredith suggested.

"What's that?" asked Liz.

"He's been working on dematerializing matter, and rematerializing it elsewhere. I've seen demos of the transporter. It's, uh, it's not perfected yet," she cautioned.

"Right," Tripp allowed, "so nobody should be using it. But if it pulls out an iron statue and, uh, I dunno, sends it to the lawn in front of Starfleet Command, well, that could be done, right?"

"I think so," Meredith concurred cautiously. "But it does sometimes scramble things. It can get similar molecules mixed up."

"So it could turn a statue of a goat into a statue of a gerbil?" Judy asked.

"More like it would just become a pile of melted, twisted metal," Meredith explained. "It's not exactly creative when it screws up."

"Got it," Tripp said, "so definitely nobody rides in that thing. I take it we'd have to unbolt the statue from its pedestal, right?"

"Probably," Meredith allowed.

"Can you run it?" he asked.

"I think so."

"I'll be on the unbolting detail," Aidan volunteered. "Otherwise, there's not much I can help with."

"Me too," Michael offered.

"I'll do it, too," Tripp said. "Meredith is on the transporter. Liz and Judy, I guess you'll be in charge of a diversion, or to help out in case somebody needs to be misdirected."

"We can be your alibi," Judy offered. "I don't mean active lying, more like, uh, selective omissions."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," Tripp said.

=/\=

On Sunday morning, Tucker found himself on the first transport of the day to central Massachusetts. It was the red eye, and Tripp, Aidan and Michael fought to stay awake as the vessel swayed and rocked. "Somebody needs inertial dampers pretty badly," Aidan suggested.

It was early, and not even light out yet, when they got to WPI. They were bundled against the cold and there was a light snow falling. Michael flipped open a communicator. "Rostov to Porter."

"Yeah."

"You where you need to be?"

"Yep. Just getting things warmed up and ready. I can see where to punch in the coordinates and start 'er up," she reported.

"You mean you never ran that thing before?" Tripp asked as Aidan stamped his feet and blew on his hands to try to warm up a little.

"It'll be fine. Don't you worry. You in position?"

"Not yet. We're walking over there now. We'll call you when we're ready. Rostov out."

=/\=

In the Starfleet Headquarters gym, Liz and Judy chatted up José and Derek, who were there for early workouts. "Where's Meredith?" Derek asked.

"You like her?" Liz asked.

"She is a nice person," he replied noncommittally.

"I think she's still sleeping," Judy opined.

"Oh."

=/\=

"Wait, Chip," Deb asked, "how do you know what happened there?"

"I heard it from Torres. He's a friendly guy. He's loosened up more since he started to go out with Shelby."

"Oh."

=/\=

In the gym, Judy's communicator chirped, and then it chirped again. "Aren't you gonna answer that?" asked José.

"Oh, uh, yeah. She turned off the treadmill she was on and flipped it open.  
"Kelly here."

"This is Porter. You hear anything yet?"

"Nothing." Judy walked several meters away from where everyone else was working out. "I can't talk much."

"Got it. I might need some help."

"I'll figure something out. Sit tight. Kelly out." She turned to the other three. "She and I presented papers on, uh, transporter technology recently. We're both a little anxious about whether they were accepted."

"Oh, well, good luck to you both," Derek said.

"Thanks. I'm gonna go now. Nice working out with you." Liz gave her a look for a moment as Judy hightailed it out of there.

Liz turned to the men. "So, uh, tell me about the transport company you work for, José."

"It's a railway, actually," he replied, and he began to regale her with tales of the European Railway.

=/\=

The three men got to the statue, and Michael and Tripp immediately set upon it with screwdrivers and wrenches as Aidan stood guard. "Dang, half o' these bolts are rusted in place," Tucker complained.

"Allow me," Aidan said. He took out an _EM-33 plasma pistol_.

"What'd ya bring that along for?" Tripp asked, alarmed.

"Don't worry; I got this. Tactical comes through," Aidan said. They stood back as he fired it on its lowest setting, which warmed the bolts. "Now try them."

The bolts were hot but they were a lot easier to work with. Michael and Tripp burned their hands a bit as they worked, but soon the bolts were all out. "Sun's coming up," Michael observed. "We better finish up."

Tripp flipped open a communicator. "Tucker to Porter."

"Hang on," she said, "Judy and I are figuring out how to get a transported item to rematerialize."

"You better figure it out in about five minutes," Aidan cautioned, "'cause the sun is coming up here and we'll have company soon."

In the communicator's tinny little speaker, Judy's voice could be heard, "Just a second, try this lever."

"No, no, that one," Meredith's voice was a little panicky.

"Ladies!" Tripp exclaimed. "Now is not the time for a learning curve."

"Wait, wait," Meredith replied, "uh, there. We have gotten a gym bag from one pad to another."

"Can you get the goat now?" Michael asked. "I don't feel like getting arrested."

"Coordinates are," Tripp checked a PADD, "fourteen point seven mark six point eight."

"Stand back," Judy cautioned, "we don't want you coming along with Gompei."

Tripp nodded and he, Michael and Aidan stepped away. "Ready when you are."

"Energizing now," Meredith reported. There was small sound, almost like wind chimes. "And now for the lawn. Changing coordinates to two eighteen mark eleven point nine."

"Let's start heading back to the transport station while this is happening," Aidan suggested. The three of them began walking away as quickly and nonchalantly as possible.

Through the communicator's speaker, Meredith could be heard saying, "Energizing again." There was another small sound of wind chimes. "There. I think. Now, let's get outta here."

"No, wait," Judy said, "I've got a towel. We better wipe off any prints."

"We'll be done in maybe a minute," Meredith said into her communicator. "Porter out."

=/\=

Several hours later, both teams were called into Admiral Forrest's office. He looked at all twelve of them sternly, and then opened the blinds in his office. "There is an iron statue of a goat on the front lawn of Starfleet Headquarters. I take it at least one of you knows about this."

Jenny peeked over and put a hand on either side of her face as she gasped, "**GOMPEI!**"

10


	3. Chapter 3

3

"Man, oh man, Chandler, you were in _big _trouble!" Deb exclaimed.

"Yep; I'm lucky to be where I am."

"I'd say so. So why did they keep you – or hire you in the first place, I guess."

"I'm getting to that."

=/\=

"I don't wanna hear who started it." Forrest's tone wasn't loud or even too terribly angry. It was more weary than anything else.

"We're sorry, sir," Jenny offered.

"I, uh, I know you are, or at least I hope you really are," Forrest muttered, "but I've got a statue of a goddamned goat on the front lawn of Starfleet Headquarters! And there was a news story on the viewer this morning; there's an Eastern engineering school with a stolen goat statue. I take it that's not coincidental."

"No, sir," replied Brooks.

"And Emory Erickson told me personally that the prototype transporter was run twice this morning, at about 0450 hours. Neither of those times was authorized. I am guessing that that's no coincidence, either."

"I'm sure it's not," Robinson stated.

"We, I want you to understand something," Forrest rubbed his forehead with the palm of his right hand before continuing, "We sometimes have issues with the Vulcan High Command. The last thing we need is for a program like this to be overrun by a bunch of people acting like teenagers." He stopped for a second to look at Josh, the youngest person in the room. "Even, uh, if you really _are _teenagers."

"This won't happen again, and the goat statue will be returned," Archer vowed.

"You're damned right it won't happen again," Forrest glared at them all, now angry, "You've all had far too much time on your hands. So now things will change. There will be one, combined, team, and not two. That way, you will stop trying to undercut one another, and will need to learn how to work together. And you now have a much shorter deadline. You don't have two more months as was originally planned. You now only have two more weeks to deliver. That should stop these, these hijinks."

"Yes, sir," Chip then asked, "Uh, sir? Who'll do the presentation, then?"

"You and MacKenzie will have to figure something out. Dismissed," sighed Forrest.

They all filed out. "Job One is to get that thing back to where it was," Archer declared. They all stared at him, so he added, "Someone's gotta 'fess up to that."

They all looked around nervously. AG's communicator chirped. "Yeah, Robinson here. _Really_? That's interesting. We'll be there soon. Robinson out." He turned to all of them. "That was Erickson. He said that something was done to the prototype transporter." Meredith stared straight ahead and swallowed hard, her face betraying her terror at being found out. He added, "I told him we'd be there. He said he wanted to show us something."

Meredith hung back with Aidan and Chip as they all walked. "Do you think they'll kick anyone out of this project?" she asked nervously.

"I dunno," said Chip, "you break the transporter?" She just looked at him. "I'll take that as a _yes_."

=/\=

Erickson, an older fellow in a wheelchair, was waiting for them. "Now, this is most interesting," he said, by way of greeting. "See, we had all sorts of issues with similar molecules being scrambled. This might even be what happened to Quinn." His eyes were far away for a moment as he remembered his son, caught in a pattern buffer. "But that statue's perfect, so far as I can tell. I compared it to pictures, and I don't see any errors in the process. But I am missing a few hours' worth of automated logging entries. So tell me, if you will; how you fixed it."

They looked around. Meredith piped up. "I, uh, there was, well, the transporter wasn't discriminating between molecules too well, as you know. So I decided to have it differentiate down to the atomic level. It would cycle between molecular and atomic levels. There was power going to logging. I disabled that, and I was able to get enough power to make the process somewhat more granular, but there really wasn't enough power to have it hit the atomic level all the time. So I kinda compromised. I'm sorry we used it without permission, sir."

"You fixed things better than they were before. I might even use your method to try to retrieve Quinn. So I'm fine with it," he then scolded, "But next time, ask, Miss –?"

"Porter. Meredith Porter."

=/\=

Getting Gompei back to WPI was a lot harder than the initial borrowing of the statue had been. Forrest had insisted that the transporter not be used, so they were to take it back on a slow transport vessel. Chip and Aidan were elected to accomplish that task.

As they were sitting in the transport, Chip asked, "How do you wanna work the presentation? I'll take the nouns if you'll take the verbs."

"Huh?"

"Sorry, bad joke. But, uh, seriously. How do you think it should go?"

"Well," Aidan thought, "I think it was a good idea for us to be the ones doing the presenting. And it's not just 'cause Kelly is shy and Kelby isn't exactly Mister Personality."

"I hear that."

"It's 'cause, well, if _we_ can understand it, then I figure anybody can. Uh, no offense."

"No problem. Think they'll let us borrow someone who actually knows what's really being invented? You know, in case there are any technical questions."

"Huh, your best engineer is probably either Crossman or Torres. Ours is either Tucker or Porter."

"We're supposed to be one big, happy team," Chip reminded Aidan.

"Right. Still, consider this. Taking old Gompei here was calculated to take Crossman outta her game. Convenient that Haynem has connections to Worcester, too."

"Yeah, she _was _kinda mortified."

Aidan nodded. "So anybody taking Stella the stuffed gerbil had to have been thinking about that. You know, to take Tucker outta _his _game."

"I dunno," Chip maintained an outward veneer of calm.

Aidan looked at him. "I don't think Tucker's peeved anymore. But I don't really know the guy. Hey," he looked out a window, "this is our stop."

Grateful to no longer be talking about the disappearance of Stella, Chip got behind Aidan and they both shouldered the heavy statue. Aidan was the taller of the two and so Gompei was angled a bit as they carried the statue to the empty pedestal at the quad side of the old Bartlett Center.

WPI students stared but at least they didn't say anything. The President of the university was there, a Tellarite woman. But she didn't comment, either, although she did look daggers at them as they placed Gompei back on the pedestal and then replaced and tightened the bolts.

Once the deed was done, Chip flipped open his communicator. "_Operation Rebolt was successful. The goat has landed. Repeat – the goat has landed_."

"Get back here, ya goof," Tucker said, "Kelly and Rosen and I think we've got somethin'."

=/\=

"I'm kinda surprised you didn't get arrested," Deb observed.

"Well, they knew about the program, of course, because of Crossman and Haynem. So they didn't wanna make waves and make their own students look bad. But it was, let's just say it made me even more eager to keep Stella here close to the vest."

"You didn't just wanna give her back, and be done with it?" she held the toy as she spoke.

Chip shook his head. "I was beginning to realize that Aidan was okay, and we had all gotten too competitive. But I also figured it would just open it all up again. So I kept quiet, and it all kinda snowballed, I guess."

=/\=

"Tell 'em whatcha thought up," Tripp encouraged.

"We were looked over everybody's notes," Judy explained, "and we almost had the same idea. Both teams wanted to use the inertia itself to create a kind of dampening field."

"We also figured that," Josh added, "some of it could be structural. See, the current design is to put the warp nacelles at the underside. But we think that if the warp nacelles are moved up, and are higher than the rest of the ship, we can harness the inertia and use it to keep everything inside from getting bounced around quite so much."

"We did some calculatin'." Tripp added. "And there will need to be internal and external dampers. But the shape of the ship can be used to help fix our problem."

"So no more Jell-O?" asked Chip.

"No more Jell-O," Jenny confirmed.

"How soon can you get a prototype together?" Aidan inquired.

"Give us a few days," Michael said, "and you guys better get your act together."

"Early would be good," Meredith stated the obvious for them all, "they'll forgive everything, I bet."

"Derek and I will do the writing," Liz declared, "but we'll need proofreading."

"Aidan and me, we can do that," Chip volunteered, "Uh, right?"

Aidan nodded. "And if you need anything else, you know, leg work, tell us. We can't do much else 'til we see the paper."

"Of course," said Brooks, "now, Josh, tell me again why, in three-dimensional, weightless space, it matters where the nacelles are."

=/\=

They pulled a pair of all-nighters in a row, but they really had something.

The paper had been written by Derek and Liz, for the most part, with input from Brooks and Judy as Tripp and José built a set of models and Meredith and Michael put together a demonstration for Aidan and Chip, and Josh and Jennifer came up with as many counterarguments as they could to see if they could poke any holes in everyone's reasoning.

Jonathan Archer spent time with the united team the first night, and then was relieved by AG Robinson. The two senior team members were impressed by how much everyone was buckling down. The commitment to getting everything together – and finishing it early – was noted by them and passed onto Forrest.

They had been working together in a big lounge, with bits of models and PADDs scattered on the carpeted floor. They had been going flat-out for a few days, and it finally all caught up with them. Jonathan came in, to check on them, and found everyone but AG curled up together on the floor, a tangle of arms and legs, fast asleep.

AG looked up and motioned to have Jonathan follow him into a hallway. Once there, AG said, "They're almost cute when they're asleep, eh? Were you ever a camp counselor?"

"Nope."

"I was. It was seven- and eight-year-old boys. Had to spend a lotta time keepin' 'em from reenacting _The Lord of the Flies_. We had to choose a _Camper of the Week_, too."

"There's a meaningful title."

"That's pretty much how me 'n my fellow counselors saw it. So we came up with a system. Whoever slept in the most normal position would be picked."

Archer laughed. "What?"

"It's the God's honest truth. And I gotta say, it was a tough decision most of the time."

"A horse race?"

"Yep. Lookin' at our happy little crew in there, I'd put my money on Rostov for the prize. But trust me when I tell ya I am stretching the definition of _normal._"

"Got it. You know, if this works out, the powers that be will want to bring all of these people on. Rosen would be brought in anyway, but look at Crossman and Torres. We'd be foolish not to hire at least them."

"Well let's hope this works, then, and Masterson and MacKenzie don't screw up the presentation. You know who's gonna be there?" asked AG.

"I wish I did."

=/\=

A day later, they were as ready as they could be. Admiral Forrest was thrilled that they were early, and was able to get a panel of judges together. Aidan and Chip found themselves in front of the panel, with AG and Jonathan standing at the back of a room used for various ceremonies.

"I'll introduce today's panel," Forrest began. "To my left is Ambassador Soval of Vulcan. To my right is Admiral Black. And next to Admiral Black is Emory Erickson, and then Admiral Gardner all the way at the end. Gentlemen, show us what you've got."

"Yes, sir," Aidan said. "The idea was a simple one. We wanted to get rid of the Jell-O."

A Vulcan eyebrow rose. "Jell-O?" Soval inquired.

"Er, the colloidal suspension," Chip clarified. "See, we realized there were two things that were pretty radically wrong with it. The first was that it couldn't be re-created, so if we were lost out past, I dunno, the Tellarite home world, we'd have no way to get any more."

"And the other reason," Aidan warmed to the subject, "was that it just didn't work that well."

=/\=

The talked for hours, and answered whatever they could. When it was all over, Soval said, "That was … fascinating. Because there is no competition, the sole decision that will be made will entail whether this new design will be utilized. I leave that decision to the three admirals and Mr. Erickson." With a swish of his robes, he departed.

Chip leaned over to Aidan and quietly asked him, "I think we were just insulted. Uh, were we?"

"I know we were."

"Give them a coupla days to decide things," AG suggested as the other four panel members departed. "Take a few days off; you've earned 'em."

"Thanks," Chip said. Spent, he and Aidan made their way to Tucker's quarters, where everyone else was waiting.

=/\=

"Wait a sec, what did you skip over?" Deb asked.

"Trust me, Deb, it was as fascinating as the ole Ambassador said. There is no way to make inertial dampers hot and sexy. Like you." They kissed.

"Finish the story and I'll make sure we give Stella here an eyeful."

"Oh, _really_?"

"Just finish the damned story, Chandler."

=/\=

There was another keg, and they had all gotten started already. Tripp had had a few and he ended up clearing off his small desk and standing on top of it. He ducked a little in order to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling. "I wanna propose a toast, to our happy little team."

"_Hear here_!" they all yelled, and everybody chugged their beers.

He then added, "But I haven't forgotten that Stella's gone missin'. We're all friends now, right? So send her back and no one'll think the less of ya."

Jenny took Chip's elbow and steered him out into the hallway, outside of Tucker's quarters. "Well? I know you heard him."

"Yeah, but …"

Ambassador Soval arrived, with a Vulcan entourage that included that same lovely yet imperious woman with a bowl haircut. "Is this where your entire team is?" he inquired. The remainder of the panel was behind them.

Chip and Jenny stared for a second. Archer and Robinson had been bringing up the very rear of the entourage with Erickson in his chair. "I believe you'll find them all in there," said Jonathan.

"Very well," replied Soval, who hit the door chime.

A very shocked Josh Rosen answered the door and quickly ditched his half-drunken plastic cup of beer, as he was underage. "M-music!" he finally stammered out. Somebody turned it up – it was one of the electric guitar-driven songs on the latest Sweet Cupcakes collection, and there was a long segment with feedback and distortion.

If the Vulcans could have looked any more peeved – without actually showing any emotions whatsoever – Chip didn't think that was possible. He yelled into the room, "_Turn it down_!"

"Sorry!" called out Brooks. The door was opened more widely.

Tripp was still standing on top of his desk. Soval approached. "This is most curious." Tucker jumped down clumsily. They all lined up, as best as they could, even though nearly half of them were not members of Starfleet. "Our presence here is to provide you with the news of your project. It has been accepted."

"Hot dog! That's fantastic!" Tripp crowed.

"It means we'll have to change the entire design," Gardner complained.

"So it's a good thing you told us before we spent any more money on constructing the older design," Black added.

"I'm pleased to report that there will also be a patent issued," Forrest announced. "And it will be for all of you, so this includes Masterson and MacKenzie as they were a part of it."

"And Miss Porter," Erickson wheeled himself to the front of the room and ran over Josh's now-empty plastic beer cup, "there will be a second patent, just for you, for the way you made the transporter's accuracy more granular."

Meredith trembled for a second. "I, I don't know what to say."

"Say _thank you_," Derek urged.

"Uh, thank you, Mr. Erickson."

=/\=

A week later, they all stood, lined up, in a large common room at Starfleet Headquarters. Everyone from Starfleet was in full-dress unis and Josh was in a Starfleet Academy cadet's full-dress uniform. The civilians wore suits except for Jenny, who wore her short skirt, high heels and the fire engine red off the shoulder top again.

Forrest spoke. "Despite some … irregularities … I am pleased to not only announce the new _NX-01_ design but also to let you all know that these fine young people and their two mentors are being awarded a patent for their efforts. Step forward and be recognized as I call your names."

Chip could spot his father in the audience, filming everything. His mother waved a little when he caught her eye. Admiral Forrest continued, "Jonathan Archer. Jennifer Crossman. Elizabeth Cutler. Brooks Haynem. Derek Kelby. Judy Kelly. Aidan MacKenzie. Chandler Masterson." That caused a slight ripple of chuckles from everyone else, as Chip had never told any of them his full name. "Meredith Porter. Aaron Gregory Robinson. Cadet Joshua Rosen. Michael Rostov. José Torres. And Lieutenant Charles Tucker III."

There were flashes as people set their PADDs to camera mode and took pictures. Forrest added, "And for her work on the prototype transporter, Meredith Porter is being granted a second patent."

The ceremony over, members of the audience came up to congratulate them. Forrest beckoned to Chip, and to José, Derek, Brooks and Jenny. "Sir?" asked José once they had gotten to a hallway where it was quieter.

"There's another thing," stated the Admiral, "now, I know the means were not exactly conventional. And you'll have to cut out the worst of the partying. I am guessing there's a reason that goat statue was taken, and I suspect it was in retaliation for was something that your team did. But if you want to join Starfleet – and for Miss Crossman, Mr. Haynem and Mr. Masterson, that would be _after_ graduation – I will recommend you."

=/\=

"So all was forgiven, eh?" Deb asked.

"Uh, huh. Now, what was it you said about giving innocent Stella here a free show?"

=/\=

The following morning, Deb had already gone to an early workout. Chip grabbed Stella. It seemed pointless to keep her. He made his way to B deck, to Commander Tucker's quarters. They were locked, so he just left Stella by the door. Fortunately, the hallways were deserted.

He got to breakfast without incident but the entire ship heard when Tucker yelled, "**I'LL GET YOU FOR THIS, CHIP MASTERSON**!"

12


End file.
